Chapter 163

Noah

Saturday crept in with no news. Three damn days and nothing.

What game was he playing?

I hadn’t slept much; every sound outside my window had me half expecting to see my father’s shadow waiting. But no one had shown up, and the silence had started to feel worse than the fear. Maybe he never made it. My mom hadn’t heard from him since, but there was always the chance he’d gotten pissed drunk upon arrival and been run over or killed in some dark corner…

Should we be so lucky.

Now I was standing in front of the mirror, pulling on a shirt that still smelled faintly of detergent and body spray, trying to look normal while my thoughts spun in a dozen directions.

Lexie sat on the bed, legs crossed, scrolling through her phone. “You still going to Keon’s thing tonight?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe I’d skip it. Hang out with you instead.”

She looked up, surprised. “Skip it? You haven’t hung out with the team in a while. It’ll be good for you.”

“I just feel bad,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Maybe you should come—or I can just tell Keon I can’t make it.”

Lexie smiled, the way she did when she thought she was being generous. “Oh, come on, babe. I’m not gonna crash your first proper night with the guys in weeks. Besides, you’re almost at the finals—you’ll miss them when the season’s over.”

“You sure?” I asked, careful to sound hesitant. “I could just stay. We could do something together instead.”

She shook her head and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “No. Go have fun. I’ll survive one night without you. Maybe I’ll hang with the girls! We both need a break. Plus tomorrow is that stupid family dinner…”

Oh yeah. The dinner.

Tomorrow morning I’d meet William first for the talk—to set the date officially, as he thought convenient. Another business transaction in his perfectly calculated agenda. Then in the evening, he planned to announce the “good news,” along with his official proposition to include me in his partnership as his greatest investment.

My fate, officially and publicly sealed.

Fuck if I didn’t deserve tonight.

I smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Alright. I’ll tell him I’m coming, then.”

“Good,” she said, already turning back to her phone.

I watched her for a moment longer, guilt twisting in my stomach. Because yes, I was going to the party. But not for the beer or the music or the guys.

Some part of me hoped that somewhere between the noise and the laughter, I’d find a quiet corner—just a second of privacy. Enough time to call Aiden. To see him, maybe. To tell him what I hadn’t been able to say all week.

That my two greatest fears were closing in on me from opposite sides. That I was terrified.

That I needed him.

I grabbed my jacket, forced a smile, and headed out before I could change my mind.

Keon’s dorm was already buzzing when I got there—music thumping through the floorboards, laughter spilling into the hallway. The smell of beer and cheap cologne hit the moment I opened the door.

“Blake! Finally!” Keon shouted from across the room, a red plastic cup in each hand. “Man, I thought Lexie chained you to the couch.”

I grinned and took the drink he shoved into my hand. “She almost did. But she decided to give me a night off for some ‘guy time.’”

Keon raised an eyebrow, impressed. “A night off? Damn, she’s generous.”

Miguel appeared beside him, arm slung over Keon’s shoulder, already flushed from whatever round he was on. “And how about yours, man? Your invisible bombshell—was she not coming?”

Keon laughed. “Nah, she had a performance with her theatre group tonight. Some experimental play thing.”

Miguel grinned wide. “Then it’s settled. No girlfriends, no drama, no curfew. We’re going all in tonight!”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s problem,” Miguel said, grinning wide.

The night unfolded fast—music, shouting, the slap of cards on the coffee table. Someone cranked up a drinking game, and suddenly there were cheers and a tray of jello shots being passed around.

Keon pointed at me. “Blake’s up next!”

I groaned. “I’m good, man.”

“Not an option!” Miguel yelled. “Come on, it’s tradition!”

They pushed the tray toward me, red and green and blue wobbling under the neon lights. Then one of the guys, Jake, laughed and set his shot down on the flat stomach of a girl lying on the couch. “Loser’s gotta do it the real way.”

The room broke into laughter and whistles.

“Your turn, Blake!” someone called.

I froze for a second, the noise around me fading. The girl giggled, waiting, eyes playful. Normally, maybe I’d laugh it off, take the dare, keep the crowd happy. But something inside me just… stopped.

I couldn’t.

Not because of Lexie—though that was the excuse that came out of my mouth.

“Yeah, right,” I said with a grin I didn’t feel. “Lexie would kill me if she found out.”

Everyone laughed, the tension gone, and the game rolled on. But the truth was simpler and heavier.

It just didn’t feel right. None of it did.

The smell of alcohol, the laughter, the girl’s flirting that would lead up to no good—it all blurred together, but the only image that stayed sharp was Aiden. His voice, his touch, the way he looked at me like he saw everything I was and still wanted me anyway.

Even in a room full of people, I couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t him.

The night rolled on in a blur of noise and motion.

Music got louder, the room got hotter, and laughter bounced off the walls until it felt like the air itself was buzzing. Hours slipped by without me noticing.

Everyone was drinking more freely now, passing bottles and mixing shots like we were already on spring break. But I didn’t want any of it. I needed to be able to ride. To think. To be ready—for whatever might happen. Always in constant alert. Just the way my life was.

If danger came knocking tonight, I couldn’t afford to be drunk.

So I watched instead. Watched Keon and Miguel teasing each other, laughing with the girls who drifted in and out of the circle. Their ease felt almost alien to me—the simplicity of it all. The normalcy of flirting, of planning weekend trips, of talking about families and futures and everything I should’ve wanted but couldn’t even picture anymore.

They got to choose.

I never really had.

The thought hit harder than I expected, curling in my chest like a cramp.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

Because the truth was simple and ugly: I didn’t want my version of this life they were all celebrating. I didn’t want to marry Lexie. I didn’t want the family dinners or the partnerships or the cameras or the endless pretending. I didn’t want to escape one man’s control only to hand myself over to another’s.

I just wanted to be free.

My pulse spiked, panic rising so fast I barely managed to choke out an excuse before I pushed through the crowd toward the hall. Keon shouted something after me, laughing, thinking I’d just had too much to drink.

I ducked into the bathroom, locked the door, and pressed my hands against the sink. My reflection looked wrecked—flushed, eyes glassy from more than just alcohol.

I pulled out my phone.

One message to Aiden.

Then another.

No response. I couldn’t wait.

I called. The first ring. The second. Straight to voicemail.

“Come on,” I muttered under my breath. “Please.”

Nothing.

That’s when the decision hit—clean, final, unstoppable.

One way or another, I was going to see him.

Tonight.